


In Your Nature

by General_Button



Series: In Your Nature [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Courting Rituals, Forest Sex, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:02:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Button/pseuds/General_Button
Summary: Sendak is a lone alpha that decides to court Shiro, a beta from another pack. It doesn't go exactly as planned.





	In Your Nature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pterodotyl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pterodotyl/gifts).



> Commission for Dolly! <3 Warning that there's some unsafe, unrealistic sex in here but they're werewolves, so it's okay lmao. Hope you enjoy!

 

Shiro spots him out on his perimeter check and nearly has a heart attack.

The pack rotates through its members for the daily perimeter check around the entirety of the castle grounds. Depending on their speed and diligence, certain members are paired together in different ways.

For example, Keith and Shiro often split the distance and meet in the middle. Sometimes it’s Lance and Shiro, or Keith and Hunk, but never Lance and Keith because they can’t be trusted to do so without either of them turning it into a competition.

None of them work as fast as Shiro and Keith do, and Keith is the fastest of them all—even moreso than Allura.

The fresh winter air surges into Shiro’s lungs while he runs. He’s still on two legs, but it doesn’t take long for his gait started to falter as the shift takes over, forcing him to slow.

By the time he’s on all fours— _threes_ —he’s already covered about a third of the perimeter.

During the springtime, when new growth starts up and spreads across the castle grounds, Shiro makes sure to check every inch and follow each scent trail to its source. But now, with the trees bare of any leaves, leaving wide gaps that are easy to see, he can waste more time.

He loses focus after about a dozen paces, the fresh air and the rhythmic pounding of his paws on the ground making him want to forget all his responsibilities, cast them out of his mind, and just _be._

About two-thirds of the way around the castle grounds, he’s considering a sizable pile of leaves in the distance that would be perfect for leaping through when he catches a whiff of something _strong._

Shiro’s nose crinkles at the strength of the smell. It’s thick like musk, and most importantly: it belongs to someone.

A few seconds later, he comes to an abrupt stop a few dozen feet away from the biggest wolf that he’s ever seen.

It’s huge, at least twice the size of Shiro, with a thick coat of rich, dark fur. A faraway part of Shiro’s mind notes that the fur is clean; that this person must not be a feral, lonely wolf driven mad without a pack, but his hackles rise nonetheless, and he instantly moves in position, growling ferociously at the adversary.

The wolf’s bright yellow eyes shift over his form, and then he takes a step closer, heedless of Shiro’s warning, and gives his own growl in return _._

It’s not like Shiro’s own, which was a warning and a threat. The growl that comes out of his body reverberates through the open air, so loud and dominating that Shiro’s instincts kick in. The urge to drop to the ground and present himself rolls over him, swift and sharp, and his knees buckle.

Alpha. This wolf is an alpha. If Shiro had to guess, he would say the alpha is from a Galra pack, which makes him even more dangerous.

With effort, Shiro remains standing.

He may only be one of the higher betas, but he’s not about to let a wild wolf get the better of him on his own territory.

 _Who are you,_ he wants to ask. _What are you doing on our territory? Where is your pack? Who sent you?_

He’s shifted, so the most Shiro can really do is attempt to drive away the very real threat. Shifting his stance lower to the ground, Shiro digs his claws into the ground and snarls.

The alpha lifts its head briefly, sniffing at the air. Then it moves.

It’s fast—faster than Shiro can react. There isn’t time to get out of the way, so Shiro jerks his head to the side in the direction the wolf is approaching from, snapping at the air, a hapless attempt to delay the inevitable as the wolf comes up to his side, its giant form dwarfing him.

He tenses, waiting for the blow that is sure to come, but then something miraculous happens: the wolf stops short of biting into his flank and instead brushes its snout up against his body, the gentleness with which it touches him shocking Shiro into flinching away, nearly losing his balance.

_What the…?_

He stars to growl, righting himself, ready for another fight, but the wolf moves to Shiro’s front, the thick layers of muscle hidden under his fur ripple like he means to attack, only for them to press their muzzles together like they’re mates, or _pack._

Startled and confused beyond all belief, Shiro rears back, snapping his teeth, and the wolf merely breathes out a huff of air, as if it—he, Shiro realizes—can’t believe that he’s acting this way. Then, before Shiro can manage to even think of a proper response, he takes off in the opposite direction, making it a few dozen paces away before he banks to the left.

 _He’s leaving,_ Shiro realizes. _That’s the edge of our territory._

Shiro wants to give chase, but the turn of events is so puzzling that he only makes it a few steps before the wolf is gone, his scent lingering, thick in and around Shiro’s nose. He wipes at his muzzle with his paw, and when that proves ineffective he shifts back, naked as the day he was born, and drags his fingers down his face in futile.

Whoever he is, he _stinks._

* * *

“You mean you saw a _Galra_ wolf? On our territory?” Allura asks him.

“And it didn’t attack you?” Lance pipes in, still carrying his pants in one hand. He was about to shift and head off, but news travels fast, and Lance abandoned his plans the moment he caught whiff of what happened to Shiro. He can hear the sounds of the rest of the pack coming closer, no doubt alerted by Coran or Lance.

“Was it accompanied by anyone?” Allura asks.

“No,” Shiro says, trying not to raise his voice at the way Allura is staring at him. “It—he was alone. Just _standing_ there. Then he brushed up against me and touched our noses together.”

“What the fuck,” Lance says quietly.

“Lance,” Allura says in reprimand, cuffing the back of his neck with her knuckles. Since Allura is the alpha, Lance ducks his head obligingly, but she doesn’t do more than that. She’s busy staring at Shiro, nostrils flaring as she takes in what must be the wolf’s robust scent. Shiro showered already and it’s _still_ clinging to him. He hasn’t been able to get rid of it.

He tries not to breathe it in on the next inhale, but it floods his throat and nose anyway. He shivers.

“The scent is…very strong,” Allura says slowly. She approaches Shiro cautiously, and when he exposes his throat to her, she brings both hands up and rubs her wrist along his scent gland, a temporary solution that does little to dilute the strength of the other wolf’s scent. She frowns, irritated, probably ready to ask Shiro to lie down so she can scent him fully, but turns her head at a sound from her left.

The other members of their pack are running towards them—Keith and Hunk are shifted, while Pidge is running alongside them—smelling like a cocktail mix of fear and worry.

“Lance texted us!” Keith says upon approach, only halfway out of his shift. He stares at Shiro, eyes casting about his form, searching for injuries as he so often does. “Something about a wolf coming onto our territory and roughing up Shiro?” His eyes skate past Allura and land on Shiro, and after he takes a sniff at the air, his eyes widen. “What—what is that _smell?”_

“I’m okay,” Shiro assures him. He glances at Lance, who shrugs sheepishly. “Lance was exaggerating when he said that. He didn’t rough me up. Actually the opposite, which is why I’m so confused.”

“I believe—” Allura starts, then shakes her head. “Let us save speculation for when we know more. Take me to where you saw it.”

* * *

With the threat of a Galra wolf lingering on their territory, the entire pack doesn’t come along, as much as they would all like to. Lance, Hunk, and Keith end up staying to keep a vigilant eye on every corner, while Pidge, Shiro, and Allura go to where he saw the wolf.

Keith may be their fastest, but Pidge has the strongest nose out of all of them. She’s the first to book for where Shiro saw him last, and outlines exactly where the wolf went before Shiro found him.

“It appears like he was just…wandering around,” she says, sounding unsure. “There’s not a distinct pattern to it. And he _really_ smells.”

Allura stands behind her, arms crossed at her chest, tense.

“You said it was alone?” she asks again. She doesn’t look at Shiro.

“Yes. Alone, and not aggressive. Well, not the way I was expecting.”

“Do you think he wanted to challenge the pack?”

“No,” Allura says immediately; vehemently. “No alpha would bother to scent mark Shiro, a beta, if they intended to challenge the pack on a personal level. A kill would have made sense. At the very least, he would have tried to make you submit to him.”

They’re all silent for a few moments. Then Allura shifts fully. She’s lean, but still bigger than most of them, and her coat is white. It’s as much a point of pride as it is a danger. There’s no hiding with a coat like that.

She takes off, scouting out the area, and when she returns, the look on her face is troubled.

“I think he’s a lone alpha,” she says. “His scent is very strong, and there are no other scents that linger, like you said. If he had a pack, I would be able to tell.” She sighs, running her fingers through her messy hair. “I am not sure what his intentions are, but we should double the teams for perimeter checks, and we’ll do it three times a day instead of the one.”

When she meets Shiro’s eyes, she looks even less settled.

“We were lucky,” she says, softly. “You were lucky.”

Shiro breathes in the scent of the alpha and wonders why it feels like a lie.

* * *

They run into the alpha on their territory again just a few days later, hanging at its edge. The situation is eerily familiar to Shiro, save for the fact that he has half his pack at his side.

There’s also a deer carcass hanging from the wolf’s jaw. It isn’t small by any means, and must have taken considerable strength to bring it all the way there if he did it while shifted.

They watch incredulously as the wolf waltzes forward without a care, stopping short of crossing too close only thanks to the threat Allura poses, thrust between the pack and the unfamiliar wolf.

The wolf drops the carcass, and then takes another step, nudging it towards Shiro, of all people. He ignores Allura entirely, lifting and bowing his head down at the deer to indicate to it, as if Shiro is blind to the sight and scent of fresh kill.

“This guy is crazy,” Hunk whispers loudly.

“What is the meaning of this?” Allura demands out of shift, when it becomes obvious the wolf won’t offer up explanations unprompted. “Why have you brought this here?” The wolf stares at her, unblinking. Her eyes narrow. “You dare issue a challenge on my territory?”

The wolf huffs, his chest expanding as he breaths something close to a sigh. He then nudges the carcass towards Shiro again, who’s still caught staring in utter bafflement.

“You challenge a member of my pack?”

They receive no answer. The wolf steps back, looking somehow _frustrated,_ as if he has any right to be when he’s the threat. Allura remains halfway through her shift, fur sprouting from her skin. The sight is ungainly, frightening even, but the wolf remains unaffected, staring at her blankly.

After giving the carcass one more nudge, he leaves, taking off in the opposite direction before Allura can pounce after him. She jolts forward like she’s going to try, but at the speed the alpha is moving, there’s no catching him on their territory.

“Damn,” she hisses, once she’s shifted back fully. Then she looks at Shiro, suspicion mingling with her confusion.

“I have no idea what that was about,” Shiro says, insistently. “I swear.”

Allura nods shortly, not bothering to hide the fact that she’s listening to his heartbeat. She trusts him implicitly, but when a lone alpha is acting like that? Anyone would be suspicious.

They discuss it for a while, standing across from the dead deer carcass. None of them seem to know what to do now, Shiro included.

There’s something about the alpha that Shiro can’t quite put his finger on. There’s danger in knowing they’re being watched by an alpha that big, and Shiro doesn’t understand why he cares about their pack.

Or why he cares about Shiro.

“What if he wants to build his own pack?” Pidge suggests. “You _are_ kind of our leader.”

It’s technically true. Shiro is usually de facto leader when Allura isn’t around, and they work well together, but now he feels at a loss.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He glances at the carcass. It smells like the alpha. His mouth waters.

None of them have offered to touch it; they’re going to have to get rid of it somehow—donate it somewhere. Even if they were low on food, Allura would never take an offering from another alpha—whatever the meaning.

“We’ll just have to wait,” she says, curling her lips down at the deer. “The wolf has not reacted with hostility, so we shouldn’t act rashly. I expect you all to remain vigilant. Especially you, Shiro.”

“Of course,” Shiro says. “I’ll keep an eye out. And whatever he wants, he’s not going to get it like that.”

* * *

The alpha shows up several more times, each time bringing another item along with him. It isn’t always fresh kill; sometimes its pillows, made of cotton or other soft material, and one time he brings with him a stuffed animal.

They try to steer him off, but he’s _persistent._ He doesn’t stop for anything, even the pack alpha acting as a threat, and he can tell it’s pissing Allura off to the point that she’s ready to call on another Altean pack, until the unthinkable happens.

The alpha catches Shiro alone.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to go outside in the evening, during a time when the alpha has never shown his face, but there’s something in the air that he can’t shake; a sensation pulling him outside, and when he goes, just a few dozen yards away from where he dropped off his last gift, Shiro catches him setting something down on the ground.

The alpha’s head whips around, eyes glittering wide in the evening gloom. His heartbeat is rabbit-fast, like he is surprised to see Shiro there, as if he couldn’t have smelled him a mile away.

It occurs to Shiro belated that he’s unshifted.

He’s never seen a Galra wolf out of shift before. Sure, he’s seen photos and the occasional video, but never in person. They’re something of a legend—recluse because of their nature, staying away from humans and sticking to their packs. If Shiro wasn’t certain that it was genetics making the alpha look more furred than the rest of the wolves in the US, he would swear he’s still mid-shift. Shiro sees a flash of teeth, and the fluttering of his hood as two large ears poke out from underneath.

Shiro falters a few steps away, hesitating when he should be going on the offensive, and that’s his first mistake.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that the man who has been stalking him is not just some lone wolf desperate for company. He’s an alpha, and he’s there for a reason.

For better or worse, that reason is Shiro.

Within seconds, the man has shifted into a wolf, and sprints towards Shiro. He tries to follow up with his own shift, but he’s too late to stop the 200 plus pound wolf from slamming him the ground.

He grits his canines as he’s pressed into the ground, managing to twist his hindlegs underneath the wolf, but there’s isn’t enough space to do more than that. The wolf is heavy, the weight of his scent settling over Shiro, filling his nose, mouth, and the space inside his head that he has been making with each individual gesture.

Shiro has been trying not to breathe it in, to deny it, but only a fool would fail to recognize signs that point to the obvious conclusion.

After a few minutes—maybe the wolf is trying to decide if he’ll make a break for it—Shiro feels the weight shift off him slightly and he breathes in deeply, inhaling the cool air.

Something soft and warm is laid over his body. Shiro’s hind-brain doesn’t understand what it is, and so he yelps, writhing useless for a moment as it becomes tangled around his legs.

There’s a deep growl from his left. Shiro stills on instinct.

 _He’s not your alpha,_ he reminds himself. _Don’t submit to him._

He shakes himself free of the silent command and twists his head, blinking unseeingly at the fleece blanket laid over the lower half of his body.

The turn of events is so puzzling that Shiro shifts back into human form, just so he can process what’s happening with a clearer head. The alpha is sitting next to him, looking at him expectantly, and he’s just laid a heavy fleece blanket over Shiro because…

He picks up the blanket and holds it up to the light, examining the make. It looks like a handmade twist-tie blanket, like the kind Lance’s grandmother made him last Christmas. It’s soft to the touch, and it smells like the alpha rolled in it for a while.

“Are you…” Shiro swallows, twisting the blanket between his fingers. “Are you…?”

The wolf’s weight settles into Shiro’s side. He’s still shifted, and Shiro can sense the pleasure oozing out of him.

It isn’t like Shiro didn’t realize what it looked like the alpha is doing. He knew what it looked like, but he could hardly believe it. _Wouldn’t_ believe it. It didn’t make sense. That a lone alpha would take an interest in him, some beta from another pack, and go to such dangerous lengths just to get his attention seemed foolhardy at best, and insane at the worst.

The weight changes and grows heavier. Shiro freezes, but it feels like his brain is moving slow as molasses, refusing to react in time as the wolf moves overtop of him, pushing his nose against Shiro’s cheek. His bulk settles over Shiro’s legs, trapping him there underneath the fleece blanket.

Like this, he can’t shift without injuring himself. The alpha must know this. In the back of his mind, Shiro thinks briefly about how furious Keith would be if he saw how easily he had let himself get into this position.

He stills again when the alpha drags his nose over Shiro’s throat, _scenting_ him.

“You’re courting me,” Shiro breathes, the words rasping past his lips. The alpha growls, the sound so low and dangerous with promise that Shiro feels it rumble through his body. He shivers, trying to decide on his next move. He’s not far from the pack house. If he can get the alpha off him, he could get close enough to scream for help.

He can feel the alpha’s heartbeat, thudding steadily in his chest. Heat is pouring off him in waves.

He starts low on Shiro’s neck, brushing the base of his throat before traveling up to his chin. Shiro’s hands come up to brush the fur on his chest. He breathes in the alpha’s scent, and just like every time before, it goes straight to his head.

Instead of the fear and apprehension that he knows he should be experiences, a wave of a lust rolls over him, settling hot in his gut. Shiro splays his fingers over the soft mass of fur. Teeth scrape over his jugular, followed by the alpha’s warm breath.

Shiro’s throat bobs as the wolf shifts overtop him, and then suddenly Shiro is staring into the face of a man again.

His eyes are even brighter than Shiro remembers. And the way he’s looking at Shiro is reminiscent of the way he felt when the alpha offered them fresh kill, unreasonably tempted by the sight of something fresh and bloody planted at his feet.

Relaxing deliberately, Shiro waits for the alpha to loosen his hold before he makes his move. He focuses on his shift, forcing himself to hold back, using it as additional strength so he can grip the man by his shoulders and shove him at the ground. Shiro pins him there, struggling not to shift fully as the alpha bucks. He needs to be able to speak.

“Who are you?” Shiro demands. His prosthetic is lying uselessly on the ground after his shift, but he knows how to hold his own without it. “What do you want with me? And with my pack.”

The alpha jolts under him, and Shiro plants his feet, digging his claws into the dirt. Alphas can’t stand being held down like this. A real alpha would never have let Shiro get this far in the first place, which either shows that this alpha was really that distracted by him, or he’s a shitty alpha.

Judging by the way that the alpha forces him off a second later with ease, a fierce smirk on his face, Shiro is tending towards the former. He rights himself, moving into a crouch, the shift rumbling under his skin. The way that the alpha is twitching, fur lining the length of his body, he’s barely resisting it himself.

“Sendak,” the alpha says, and it takes Shiro a second to realize that’s his name. His voice is a deep and lovely timbre. His hair is dark, and he’s muscular. His wolf is _huge._

Basically, he’s exactly Shiro’s type, if a little more hairy.

“You have not accepted any of my gifts,” Sendak continues. He sounds irritated. _Put out._ Shiro wants to laugh, but they’re just a few feet apart, poised to fight, and Shiro can smell Sendak’s arousal, even more potent than his natural scent.

Sendak waits for his reply.

“You’re courting me,” Shiro repeats, because he doesn’t know what else to say when Sendak is just _staring_ at him. “You realize that you’re intruding on my pack’s territory by doing this, right?”

Sendak snorts. “Your _pack,”_ he says, his tone of voice indicating just what he thinks of them.

“Hey,” Shiro says in warning. He goes to say more, but then he’s made aware of multiple scents coming up fast. They’re followed by voices.

Shiro looks over and sees Keith and Allura running his way. By the time he looks back towards Sendak, he’s gone.

* * *

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Keith asks for the thousandth time.

“I’m fine,” Shiro tries to assure him. Keith doesn’t look like he believes it. “I’m serious! He just put this blanket over me—” he gestures to the blanket, wrinkling his nose for effect— "and left when you all came running.”

In his retelling of the events, Shiro left out the part about being scented and having the wolf literally on top of him. It would only infuriate Allura, and she would demand a pack scenting which Shiro really doesn’t see as necessary at this point.

It’s not because he _likes_ Sendak’s scent. It’s instinct that makes wolves attune to the scents of their packs, and Sendak is not pack. That’s all there is to it.

“That blanket really stinks,” Lance says, plucking at one of the tied ends cautiously. “Is it—is this _handmade?”_

Lance sounds amazed and disgusted all at once. Shiro’s fingers twitch with the urge to bring the blanket closer.

“Yeah,” he says. Allura’s eyes narrow, and he realizes he doesn’t know what face he’s making.

“He went all out, huh?” Hunk says. “This is luxe fleece.”

“It’s what fleece?”

“Come on, Lance, you’ve gotten like five of these from your grandma. That’s the good stuff! The soft expensive fleece.”

Shiro looks down at the blanket still clutched in his hands and strokes his fingers over the fleece. It _is_ soft. It would make the perfect nest blanket.

“It’s a shame we must get rid of it,” Allura says, quiet enough that Shiro almost misses it.

“What?!” Shiro barks. The paladins all look at him and he flushes. “Sorry, I was just—it seems like it was expensive to make. Couldn’t we just…wash it?”

Allura frowns, unused to Shiro so blatantly disregarding pack mentality.

“You know we can’t keep it. It was from another alpha. If it was a gift from his pack, that would be one thing, but it’s clear that his intentions are to try and entice you into _his_ pack. We cannot accept it.”

“Yeah,” Shiro croaks, “I know. Forget I said anything. I wasn’t thinking.”

Allura smiles at him, her expression softening. She runs a tight ship, but she wants him to know that she cares. He returns it, and when she reaches for the blanket, he presses it close to his body, hoping his expression doesn’t betray him.

“This is my mess,” Shiro says, holding up a hand when her brow furrows. “It’s my responsibility, so I’ll take care of it.”

* * *

Trying to stop himself is an exercise in futility. 

Shiro doesn’t toss out the blanket, not by a long shot. He takes it into his room and then can’t stop himself from thinking about the way it might look with all the other gifts that Sendak tried to leave with him, creating a nest.

His wolf rustles under his skin, eager to expound upon the idea. _A nest._

Shiro has always shared his space with others. The castle, they call it, because it is the pack’s place. There’s a pack nest, too, with comfortable cushions and couches that are well worn and smell like pack, but Shiro has never had a nest of his own.

He doesn’t know anything about Sendak, other than the fact that he’s an alpha—likely from a long line of purebred wolves. It doesn’t mean much in modern society, but Shiro thinks about the size of him, the way his eyes glittered in the low light, and then he’s shoving his face in the blanket before he can talk himself out of it.

He leans against the wall and goes lax, imagining for a moment that Sendak courts him— _properly_ courts him, even joining their pack.

Then he thinks about the teeth near his throat, and suddenly he doesn’t want a proper courting.

Shiro has to set down the blanket eventually, because the scent is very strong, and if he doesn’t get rid of it, people are going to get suspicious.

He shoves the blanket deep in the back of his closet, with a few air fresheners on top, and then he takes a thorough shower, trying not to think about the memory of Sendak lying on top of him.

* * *

Shiro is just doing this to send the alpha away again. That’s why he doesn’t alert anyone else that he’s back, and it’s also why he doesn’t shift—so he can express how much he shouldn’t be there.

“How many times are we going to go through this?” Shiro says, planting his hands on his hips. “You can’t _be_ here.”

Sendak ignores his warning completely and walks up to him, arms heavy with what is presumably another gift. There are three hefty bags, and they smell a lot like jerky. Deer jerky.

“Did you cook this yourself?” Shiro asks, before he can help it. It smells really, really good. Shiro loves deer jerky. Not that Sendak could possibly know that.

“It’s for you,” Sendak says, and then dumps them in his arms without preamble. Shiro sputters, both because of the sudden weight and the fingertips that trail brazenly up and over his forearms, stopping at his elbows.

“You’re…not very good at this, are you?” Shiro says, trying to ignore the way his face is slowly flushing red. Sendak growls low in his chest, but it isn’t an unpleasant sound. Shiro swallows.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to pull me away from my pack,” he jokes. Maybe it isn’t the right move; Sendak’s eyes light up, and Shiro shifts the bags over so he can raise a hand. “Can we—let’s hold on a second. Let’s start over. I’m really confused right now.”

Sendak doesn’t move away.

“Your name is Sendak. I’m Shiro.” He takes a breath. There’s no point in beating around the bush. “Why are you courting me?”

Sendak seems to consider his words a little more carefully then, but his answer leaves something to be desired.

“Your scent is unlike any other I have tasted.”

One of Sendak’s hands lands on his waist, the other on his ass, and pulls Shiro flush, trapping the deer jerky between them.

“Whoa!”

“I knew I had to have you,” Sendak purrs, raising one hand to cup Shiro’s cheek. He should resist, but instead he stays frozen as Sendak’s fingers trail down past his throat.

“I have a pack,” Shiro says quietly. His mouth is watering from the combination of Sendak’s scent and the food. His wolf feels restless inside him. “I wasn’t serious when I said that. I’m not going to leave them.”

“I know,” Sendak says. He doesn’t _sound_ upset, which is promising. “I am under no misconceptions about your loyalty. What I want is not your pack, nor another, but _you.”_

“But I—”

Shiro stops.

“You—?” Sendak says, prompting him.

“Shh.” Shiro holds up a finger and Sendak stares at it, blinking. The voices are far off, still distant, and the wind is blowing in their direction, so they won’t have caught onto Sendak’s scent yet.

He looks down at the bags in his arm and into Sendak’s handsome, rugged face and makes a very stupid decision.

“Come on,” Shiro hisses, dropping the bags and taking Sendak by the wrist. He pulls once, twice, and then the third time Sendak finally catches on, moving to follow.

Shiro doesn’t have a destination in mind. The only thought running through his head is to get away from his pack and somewhere they can talk.

Why? He’ll figure out that part later.

Shiro sprints like his life depends on it, letting go of Sendak’s hand so he can run faster. The air is frigid, but pleasantly so, burning in his throat as they dash through the trees. He doesn’t bother to look behind him to see if Sendak is following; the heavy huff of his breath, coming from directly behind Shiro is proof enough.

A laugh spills from Shiro’s lips when he nearly trips over a cluster of thick roots. He can’t believe he’s actually doing this.

He grins back at Sendak, who’s staring at him like he’s seeing something new.

Then Shiro is a wolf, and he takes off towards the outer edge of his territory, daring Sendak to give chase.

A growl sounds off behind him. Shiro digs his claws into the ground, propelling himself forward. He isn’t as fast as Keith, nor is he as big and brawny as Sendak, but he knows his way around these forests and their territory. He weaves around the trees and jumps over the thickest roots he can find, hoping that it will slow Sendak down.

Based on the heavy pound of feet closing in on him, it isn’t working.

Shiro waits until he feels Sendak nip at the end of his tail, then whirls around to face him. He means for it to be playful, snapping his teeth at Sendak, keeping him at bay, but he doesn’t account for how close Sendak really is until he slams into Shiro and they both go tumbling.

Shiro cries out, helpless as he’s crushed underneath Sendak’s weight. He expects him to move off Shiro, and stills, shocked when Sendak’s teeth ghost across his throat. His weight shifts, then settles, pinning Shiro down to the ground.

Heat curls in Shiro’s gut. He digs his paws into the ground, trying to get some traction so he can buck Sendak off of him.

Sendak thrusts against him once, twice, and the third time, Shiro whines, trying to wrench his head out from under the threat of his sharp canines.

The following growl that comes out of Sendak is deeper, and more dominating than Shiro has ever heard. Then he thrusts twice more against his backside, shoving his hindlegs up underneath Shiro’s.

 _Submit,_ he may as well be screaming. _Submit to me._

Shiro wants to. He _wants_ to, but Sendak isn’t pack, and he’s fighting against every instinct telling him to go wild.

Eventually, when Shiro has breathed in enough scent to completely overwhelm him, and his legs begin to tremble from the strain of staying so still, he collapses into the ground, lowering his head in silent submission.

Sendak scents him aggressively, rubbing the side of his cheek over the back of Shiro’s neck and licking the fur around his shoulders. His pack is going to throw a fit when they smell it on him, but that thought is far from Shiro’s mind as Sendak licks and licks, keeping it up until Shiro wriggles out from under him, shifting back into a human.

He’s barely blinked back into a more human awareness when Sendak’s very human mouth latches onto his shoulder. He grips Shiro by the hips, and Shiro realizes with a jolt that they’re both naked, and there’s a significant bulge pressing into his backside.

“What would your alpha think, seeing you like this?” Sendak muses, leaning back. He thrusts his cock in the crease of Shiro’s ass, grinding it roughly, like he intends to get off like that. If he did, it would mark Shiro more than his scent ever could, and while Shiro is insane for even considering this, he isn’t just going to sit by passively by Sendak gets what he wants.

“Are you going to fuck me, or not?” he asks, relishing in the way that Sendak stills, his cock giving a solid, distinctive twitch. It feels gigantic, and when he glances behind him, he’s rewarded with the sight of the head peeking up over his ass.

Shiro’s mouth waters. With his pack, it’s hard to find time for himself, and even harder to find it with someone else. That, and he doesn’t always trust himself not to accidentally shift during sex, so he’s been refraining.

“I was not aware you were…willing,” Sendak says carefully, "to go to such lengths."

“Yeah,” Shiro breathes. He shivers, and takes a moment to reconsider the insanity of the situation he’s in. A laugh escapes him before he can help it. “I really shouldn’t be doing this. My pack would _kill_ me.”

One hand glides over Shiro’s hip, while the other presses at the back of his neck, pushing his head down towards the ground. His touch is gentle, but firm, maneuvering him into position and spreading his legs. Presenting him.

Shiro’s heartrate kicks up a notch. He could move—he _should_ move. Presenting in front of another alpha, let alone an alpha that isn’t pack?

He was introduced to his pack under life-or-death circumstances that ended up saving his life, so he didn’t have to go through the same rituals that some packs still employ. He was immediately accepted.

Sometimes he would wonder what it would have been like—how he would have had to prove himself.

“Forget them,” Sendak murmurs, as if reading his mind. Shiro can barely recall what he said earlier as Sendak covers the length of Shiro’s body, pulling their hips flush. He starts slow, grinding his cock between his cheeks, then up and over the curve of his lower back.

Sendak is so much _bigger_ than him. Shiro's breath comes out sharp and unsteady, and he doesn’t realize how much he’s tensed up until Sendak pulls away and kneels between his legs, parting his cheeks with his thumbs.

Fingers tease at his hole. Shiro ducks his head, staring between his legs where his cock is hanging, half hard from the events. Sendak’s is still mostly soft between his thighs, but it’s _big._

“You're certain?" Sendak asks him.

"I could do this alone," Shiro says, half-hearted in his threat. It seems to work: Sendak rumbles low in his throat, leaning forward, and then Shiro feels his breath ghost over his hole and squeezes his eyes shut. He had no idea how Sendak plans to make the huge length he saw earlier fit inside him with nothing to pave the way—until something wet and warm passes over his hole.

“Fuck,” Shiro breathes, “are you—?”

Sendak’s tongue is wide and warm. He presses it flat against his hole, dragging it over and around his rim, laving it with attention. Gently, at first, and then with more pressure, and Shiro’s knees twitch, moving inward on instinct.

He bites on the end of his thumb when Sendak pushes his tongue inside, and a low moan works up into his throat when he thrusts it in. Shiro shifts his stance, and Sendak—anticipating some kind of move he doesn’t approve of—growls, digging his nails into Shiro’s hips, screaming _alpha, alpha, obey._

Shiro stills, his heart pounding.

Sendak starts slow, licking Shiro to mark him, to bury his scent so deeply that it will take weeks to fade, but then he starts fucking him with his tongue, tugging Shiro’s ass closer so he can wrap his mouth around him and draw out the sounds Shiro is so desperately trying to contain.

At one point, as Shiro’s legs are starting to tremble from the strain of maintaining his position and being eaten out so thoroughly, Sendak reaches down between his legs and finds his cock, giving it a few cursory, exploratory tugs before he slows, stroking it from root to tip, all the while he keeps loosening Shiro up with his tongue.

“Please,” Shiro sobs, tugging at his hair when Sendak thrusts his tongue deep. He strokes Shiro's cock simultaneously with his other hand, teasing at the head with his fingers, smearing around his precome. All the while he doesn't let Shiro move, holding him still each and every time his hips jerk away. “You’re killing me, oh my _god.”_

The pressure of Sendak’s tongue disappears, and then his breath ghosts over Shiro’s hole.  

“Patience. You can’t handle me all at once.” He pauses, teeth scraping over the curve of his ass. Shiro feels his thumb press in at the edge of his rim, rubbing and circling before he pushes it in with ease. Another soon joins it, and before long, he's fucking Shiro with his fingers, occasionally adding his mouth and tongue into the mix.

“I’m a _werewolf._ I’ve got high—” Shiro’s breaths stutters as Sendak’s fingers brush his prostate. “H-high pain tolerance.”

Sendak ignores him, focusing his efforts on getting Shiro used to the thick girth his fingers provide. While it’s appreciated, and it feels nice, Shiro wants to be fucked. Spreading his legs and lowering his head to the ground, he presents himself as enticingly as he can—as much as he dares to. Which, considering the circumstances, is a lot.

 _“Sendak,"_ he says, adding in a needy whimper, hoping it'll hit the right buttons.

“So needy,” Sendak purrs, sounding pleased. His voice is velvety and smooth, and it lowers even further as he speaks, words turning to rumbling wave in his throat. “You’re submitting yourself so well. Very good.”

Warmth cuts right through Shiro. He closes his eyes again, holding back on a whine when Sendak grabs his hips and starts thrusting his cock against his hole.

“I want to mark you like this,” he admits, rutting harder now, sliding wetly across his tailbone. The head of his cock catches every so often, but he doesn’t press in just yet. “I want your _pack_ to know who’s claimed you.”

“You haven’t claimed me yet,” Shiro mutters brazenly, and he’s rewarded with the bulbous head of Sendak’s cock pressing into his hole. Shiro groans, relaxing as best he can, and when it pushes past his rim, he lets out a shaky exhale.

It’s not so bad; the burn barely registers, and it’s wet, meaning Sendak must have been really turned on. Shiro’s heard about the differences of galra wolves and the rest of them, and as Sendak slowly works his fat cockhead inside Shiro, it seems like one must be true.

His eyelids flutter shut when their hips meet, letting out a pleased hum. He feels so _full,_  and the base of Sendak's cock is flared just slightly enough for Shiro to feel it.

His knot. He has a knot, because he’s a natural born wolf and an alpha.

“Fuck,” Shiro breathes, drawing out the word slowly. Sendak’s mouth passes over his shoulder, lips pressing just enough to tease.

Shiro’s entire body trembles at the first thrust. Sendak’s mouth remains close to his ear, a low rumble sounding each time he buries himself deep. Shiro’s only half paying attention, focusing solely on Sendak’s thick cock working inside him.

“Fuck,” he says again, because he can’t articulate what it’s like to be fucked like this, out in the open, where anyone could find them. And he’s an _alpha._ _“Fuck._ God, you’re cock—feels really good. ‘S big.”

Sendak pauses, rolling his hips in a slow grind, pushing the thick root of his cock up against Shiro’s prostate with a squelch. Shiro squirms, fingers crumpling up leaves under his hands.

“You wouldn’t prefer one of your pack?”

Shiro shakes his head; it’s not just that he would never have sex with any of them, but also because—because of who Sendak is.

“No?” Sendak sounds smug when he pulls out smoothly, and then snaps his hips, driving into Shiro deep, then setting a brutal pace. Shiro’s moan is sharp, and sounds shockingly loud in the quiet outdoors. He _loves_ getting fucked, and he’s never been good at exercising self-control.

Sharp claws dig into his hips, and then he hears an inhuman growl from behind.

Neither is Sendak, apparently.

Pushing away the fear that tries to claw its way into his chest, Shiro reaches back, finding fur sprouting along the back of Sendak’s hand. As he fucks Shiro, his thrusts become rough and erratic, pounding into him unevenly, as if he has no other goal than to chase his pleasure.

The fur becomes thicker. Sendak’s legs lengthen behind him as the shift begins to take over, growls mixing together into a wave of deep, rumbling static.

He’s losing control.

“Oh, god, don’t shift,” Shiro warns him, but he’s breathless with want. His eyes roll back as Sendak gives him several sharp, punishing thrusts, lifting him by his hips. He’s gotten big enough that Shiro’s toes drag back across the forest when he jerks him back.

The new angle buries him _deep._ Shiro is half standing now, hands reaching to brace himself on the nearby tree while Sendak pounds into him, growling like there’s something nearby posing a threat.

Heat races up and down Shiro’s spine, and his wolf is more restless than ever. He’s sweating bullets, trying his best to resist his own shift clinging just under his skin. It would feel so _good_ to let go, to fold in on himself and let his instincts take over. Even uninflated, Sendak’s knot feels gargantuan. Shiro is just glad that Sendak has a lot of precome, or things would hurt much more.

“God,” he whines, claws scraping down the tree. He starts jerking himself off with his other hand, pressing his thumb against the vein with enough pressure to drive him right to the edge. _“Harder.”_

Sendak grunts with effort, his next series of thrusts so fierce that Shiro has barely stroked himself a dozen times before he comes, his entire body going wire-tight. Sendak doesn’t stop, but he slows enough to grind his knot up against Shiro’s prostate, drawing out another trembling moan.

Sendak pulls out after Shiro has finished coming, leaning back just enough to fist furiously at his cock. He's still furry, clearly struggling not to shift, and Shiro is surprised by how attractive he finds it, watches the way his clawed hand glides over his cock appreciatively. Then, a minute later Sendak starts to come, and unsurprisingly, he aims it at Shiro, covering his abdomen and his thighs in come.

Shiro blinks at the mess, but doesn’t have the strength to be angry about it. Not that it would matter, after what they just did. A little more of Sendak’s scent isn’t going to change anything in the long run.

 _At least he didn’t come inside me,_ he muses, lips twitching. It’s hard to feel relieved when he just had sex out in the woods with another alpha outside of his pack. Reckless doesn’t even come close to describing his behavior.

Shiro’s legs are still trembling when he tries to take a step. He nearly stumbles, but then he feels Sendak’s claws dig into his side, holding him steady.

“Are you well?” Sendak asks, pushing him to rest against the tree.

“I’m fine. Just a little shaky,” Shiro replies. He looks up at him.

Reckless or not, he made the decision to do this; he has no one to blame but himself.

Feeling foolish and bold, Shiro grabs the sides of Sendak’s face with both hands and brushes their noses together.

“Payback,” Shiro says. He’s still breathing hard, and as Sendak’s hand moves near his throat, just over his sternum, it hitches, catching on the end of a breath.

“You have not done anything I expected,” Sendak admits, moving his fingers slowly. His eyes flick down, and Shiro let his own gaze wander, skating over toned abdomen muscles and his softened cock. “I certainly did not expect you to bring us to this part of your forest, away from your pack.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Shiro says. It feels like the wrong thing to say, even though it’s the truth.

Sendak’s fingers settle over the base of his throat. He has one arm wrapped around Shiro, holding him close. He could break away, but he’s tired, sore, and freezing his ass out in the cold. Sendak is warm.

“I don’t,” he admits. “Tell me, Shiro, where did you store the blanket?”

“Did you make that yourself?” Shiro asks, avoiding the question. Sendak’s fingers twitch. “It was pretty nice.”

“Where,” Sendak says. Shiro doesn’t answer, and Sendak growls, leaning in close. It’s ineffective, as far as intimidation goes. Sendak just made it clear that he wants to shove his dick up Shiro’s ass at any opportunity.

They stare at each other, and Shiro thinks about telling him off. He thinks about letting Sendak know that his attention isn’t needed and it’s only going to dig Shiro into a deeper hole.

Instead, he leans forward and kisses him.

Sendak goes still, shocked into silence at first, unresponsive to Shiro’s soft press of lips. Then the spell breaks, and he doesn’t hesitate to return his kiss, moving his palm to the back of Shiro’s head to hold him steady.

For a while, the only sounds are the smack of their lips and the birds singing high above their heads. Sendak’s hand slides into Shiro's hair, tugging lightly at the strands, and he moans into his mouth, sliding one hand up and down his muscular chest. Sendak is a _really_ good kisser. That, or Shiro’s still feeling the effects of a good orgasm.

He only breaks away when he steps on a twig and nearly punctures the underside of his foot.

“Crap. _Ow.”_ He rubs the bottom of his heel, making sure the skin hasn’t split before he straightens and faces Sendak, who’s staring at him like he wants to eat him.

“I should—go,” he says, crossing his arms. “My pack will probably find me soon. I’m shocked they haven’t yet, to be honest.”

“Maybe they were leaving us unbothered,” Sendak says, sounding vaguely hopeful.

“Not likely.” Shiro smiles at Sendak’s scowl. “You realize that I’m not joining you, right? This was nice, but I have a family. A _pack.”_

Sendak scoffs. “I said I wanted you, not your pack. You may stay with them as long as you like.”

“Oh, I may?” Shiro takes a step back, suddenly wishing he hadn’t shredded his clothing when he shifted. “Why didn’t you just explain yourself when you came by all those times? You know you can’t speak when you’re shifted.”

“I would not make myself vulnerable that easily.”

“But you were willing to show up at all,” Shiro points out. “Why?”

Sendak simply looks at him, and then Shiro realizes exactly what he’s asking.

“You don’t even know me,” he says, steadily ignoring the heat crawling up his cheeks. “Why would you go to so much trouble for me? I’m just a beta.”

Sendak shrugs and looks away, like it’s no big deal, and Shiro wants to press, but he doesn’t know how long he has until someone finds him.

“Well.” Shiro rubs his arm, unsure how odd it would be to leave the man he just had sex with. “I should…go.” He takes a step to the right, about to shift, then hesitates. “I, uh, had a good time. And I appreciate the gifts, but you should probably stop giving them to me. I can’t really accept them.”

Sendak’s stare does not waver. He smirks like he _knows,_ which isn’t possible. Shiro is the first to look away, shuffling over to his right, letting the shift come over him.

“I’ll see you later,” he says, just before he goes full wolf. Sendak’s expression brightens, and Shiro realizes too late that he didn’t tell him off, or discourage him, or any of the things he promised himself.

He also realizes he may not actually mind.  


End file.
